A Man's World
by terre nymphe
Summary: Borrowing characters and inspiration from Gundam Wing, Sailor Moon, and Dark Angel, this is the story of a special sextet and their struggles with life, love, and belonging. Please, please, please review.
1. Chapter 1: In the Beginning

A Man's World

Chapter 1: In the Beginning

by terre nymphe

as aforementioned in the summary, this piece borrows both characters and storylines from Gundam Wing, Sailor Moon, and Dark Angel. I do not own, nor have any claim to, any of these shows and/or comics. I apologize for any perceived plagiarism and assure readers that it is not intentional.

His forehead dripping in sweat, Dr. Smith noticed the woman's screams had stopped. A groaning flat-line from the heart monitor now echoed through the warehouse's abandoned hallways. For a spilt-second, Smith contemplated reaching for the defibrillator paddles, but a warning cough from the mid-wife stayed his hand. The patient was of no consequence; only the child she carried had any value. Smith's fleeting feelings of heroism were gone, and he turned the monitor off. Smith cut the umbilical cord and gently placed the newborn in the mid-wife's portly arms. Two inconspicuous men in dark clothes came into the room and carted off the dead woman. Humanity hedged at Smith, but his promised payday proved to be more important to him. His orders were to attend to the baby.

Making peace with his situation, he noticed something. The room was quiet– too quiet. In a panic, Smith grabbed the child, hoping, more than he had ever hoped before, that it was not dead. Two icy, blue eyes stared up at him. And though not usually a religious man, he let loose a relieved shudder and thanked the gods that the child was alive. The mid-wife took the baby from him. She too was relieved. She could not collect her fee unless the baby was alive and totally healthy. She checked its vital signs. Heart rate was normal, respiration was good, and the child's skin was a glowing pink, a perfect specimen. She wrapped the newborn in a thin, sterile blanket and waited for the doctor.

Meanwhile, the "good" doctor cleaned the crude delivery room; he could not leave behind any indication of the past few hours. He sterilized his equipment, packed it all into a cardboard box, and washed off the makeshift delivery table. The amount and overpowering odor of the blood had shocked the seasoned doctor. He had to pause often to avoid the nausea that threatened to overtake him. Impatient for her money, the mid-wife continued to nag at Smith to hurry. Finally, satisfied he'd left behind no evidence; Smith grabbed his box of equipment and followed the woman out of the room.

They crept silently through the crumbling building, around a maze of dimly lit hallways, and out the well-hidden service exit. They stepped into a dark alleyway and then slowly made their way to the nondescript black van that was parked at the compound's gated exit. Smith deposited the box in the back of the van then walked around to the side. The sliding door opened and a pair of hands stretched from the van's dark interior. The mid-wife placed her small bundle in the waiting arms and watched as they retreated into the darkness. Hands still extended, Dr. Smith and the mid-wife waited for their own, not quite so small, bundles. Instead, two muffled sounds reverberated through the alley as Smith and the mid-wife fell to the ground, dead. The van soundlessly escaped through the gates, down the street, and into the city where it disappeared among the decrepit buildings.


	2. Chapter 2: It's a What?

A Man's World

Chapter 2: It's a What? by terre nymphe 

as aforementioned in the summary, this piece borrows both characters and storylines from Gundam Wing, Sailor Moon, and Dark Angel. I do not own, nor have any claim to, any of these shows and/or comics. I apologize for any perceived plagiarism and assure readers that it is not intentional.

The van drove on through the night leaving behind the bright lights of a dozen cities and towns. As dawn neared, the van disappeared into a large forest. The forest provided the cover that night no longer could. For two days, the mysterious vehicle traveled through the leafy darkness, pausing only for the drivers to change shifts. As the van reached the edge of the forest, it stopped. The sun was still high in the sky; therefore, the travelers would have to stay put for a few hours. Anonymity and covertness were especially important to this mission.

Eager to stretch their legs, four of the five men exited the van; one of them stayed inside with the baby. As he held the child, Cpl. Po wondered what was so important about it. The kid wasn't even normal. Babies are supposed to sleep, cry, and eat; but this one hadn't slept or made a sound in three days. One of the other men was a doctor and he'd said the kid was fine, but . . .

"I don't care what Dr. Riez says; this kid is just not right!" Po said to himself.

"What was that, soldier?" a voice asked from outside.

"Nothing, Dr. Riez, sir"

The doctor frowned at the skeptical, young soldier and climbed inside the van. The rest of the group soon followed his example, and they began the final leg of the journey. The moon was only a sliver in the sky when the van finally left the safety of the forest. Maneuvering a multitude of winding roads and treacherous mountainside passages for three more days, the van finally approached some semblance of civilization.

A large concrete building stood on the end of the road and a nearby sign identified it as Phoenix Research and Development. Without even slowing down, the van passed it and veered off to a dirt path. The building was really a shell corporation. It acted as a deterrent for unwanted suspicions from the few civilians that happened to wander near enough to question the strange occurrences in the area.

Finally, after a week of travel, the van came to a stop at a massive black gate. Neither the gate nor the surrounding walls bore any identifying marks, and there was no need for any. Only authorized personnel were allowed to get within 500 meters of the compound and live to see another day.

With a slow, groaning protest, the gate opened and allowed the van to enter. It drove into a garage and parked. A team of four doctors rushed to the van's back door and took the child from the tired travelers. While Cpl. Po and the three other soldiers headed for the debriefing room, Dr. Riez followed the doctors to the medical bay. He gave them a quick run down of the child's health status and behavior during the journey. The doctors had all been opposed to subjecting the newborn to such an arduous trip, but their superior had refused to listen.

Once in the med bay, the doctors started to unwrap the child and clean him up when they noticed something heart-stopping.

"It's a girl! Shit, they must have gotten the wrong baby!"

Dr. Riez looked confused, "Of course we got the right baby. We went to the warehouse and that slimy little doctor handed me this baby. So it's girl, what's the problem?"

The others just stared at him.

"All the children at this compound are boys. The Founders ordered us to create boys only. We only accept male embryos and there is no way that something like this would slip past us. And this . . ." he paused, flustered, "this is the project of a Founder himself. We are going to be in so much trouble. Girls can't be trained to be soldiers. He is going to kill me . . ." The man continued to ramble on until he passed out.

His colleagues, apparently used to his fits, just picked him up off of the floor and deposited him in one of the nearby beds.

"What did he mean about training the children to be soldiers?" Riez asked the remaining three doctors as they continued to care for the baby.

"You don't have clearance for that information," replied the man who was putting the girl in a crib. Five other cribs surrounded it, each with a little boy inside. He picked up one of the boys and handed him to a nurse. "This one has completed his 12 month decontamination. Upgrade his pass to the nursery building."

"What ARE you people talking about?" Riez was becoming increasingly frustrated.

"Perhaps I can explain everything," a new voice chimed in. "Just follow me." The man spoke to the team of doctors in a low voice then led Riez to another building. Once in the building, Riez followed the mysterious man into a large conference room; the man bade him to sit. "Now, I'll tell you what you've been wanting to know. I am Director A, and I am one of the six Founders. We have been commissioned to form a perfect army. Instead of recruiting the best of the best, as is the case with all other military-like organizations, we decided to create this army from the very beginning. Through selective breeding and certain in-vitro enhancements, each boy is created to fulfill a specific purpose."

Director A paused for a moment to let the information soak in.

"After he is born, a baby must stay in med bay for one year to ensure that he is perfect. He will be exposed to all diseases and bio-toxins to make sure his immune system will protect him against anything. There are specialists on staff to make sure that each boy is developing correctly, both mentally and physically. After his time there is over, his pass, the computer chip in his hand, is upgraded to allow him access to his own room in the nursery building. Each room is set up to reflect the specialization that the Founders and doctors have agreed on. He will remain in that room and be introduced to the basics of soldiery until he is five years of age, when he will be moved to the next building. Then, the real training begins. The boys are reunited and they begin to do some of their training together. At the age of 12, each boy is imbedded with his permanent identification chip. By age 15, they are put into general population and become eligible for fieldwork."

Riez stared at the man, stunned. He had been working at the facility for nearly two months and he'd had no idea of the compound's real purpose. This was almost too much for him to handle. And the Founder wasn't finished talking.

"And that was just the protocol for the average soldier. The child you were entrusted with is no average soldier. The other five Founders and I could not decide on the attributes of a perfect soldier, so we all created our own. The six children will be trained to different specifications and ultimately different purposes. You have brought here the last of the six. The others are just a few weeks apart in age, but my creation took longer to finish. No matter what the other Founders think of their boys, my baby will be the perfect soldier!" Director A sat back in his seat and waited for Riez's reaction. Riez remained silent.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. The four doctors Riez had met earlier walked in the room and sat down. They looked anxious; Riez didn't know why.

"Now that everyone is here, I can reveal my plan. Dr. Riez, you were hired because of your talents, but you were sent on the retrieval mission because you were disposable and knew nothing of our real purpose. Now that you know, I want you . . . all of you to become part of my special team, part of the team that focuses on the success of my perfect soldier." Thinking this to be a grand gesture, Director A waited for the flood of acceptance and gratitude. When silence assailed his ears, he was indignant. "Well, someone needs to say something. I'm offering job security, access to almost everything on the base, and a substantial pay raise."

The head doctor, having calmed down from his earlier fit, eyed the other men warily. "Sir, we have some bad news for you."

"What? What is wrong with my perfect baby?"

"Well . . . the baby . . .he's a she. Your perfect soldier is a girl!" The man closed his eyes and waited for the string of curses that he was sure would be hurled at him. There was silence once again.

"No wonder the group was so quiet," Director A laughed. "I know the child is female. I designed her."

Amid the sighs of relief, Riez found the courage to speak.

"Director, I'm still a bit confused."

"I'll answer your questions only after I receive your pledge of loyalty."

"Then you will have it. Director A, I pledge my loyalty to you. I will follow your orders and keep your secrets." Riez committed.

A chorus of affirmation from the rest of the group soon followed.

"Very well; listen to me carefully. Starting now, you will report only to me. If anyone is to question you, refer him to me, and I will handle the situation. Make sure you understand this, it's extremely important. No one else is to know about the girl, and I mean NO ONE . . ." he paused for emphasis and there was a knock at the door; a young boy entered the room carrying some small plastic cards. Director A patted the child's head and sent him away. He turned back to the doctors and began to pass the cards down to each man. "Here are your upgraded identification passes. You'll need to carry them with you at all times. They will exempt you from the random security checks and will allow you access to each of the buildings in the compound. Very few people have this much autonomy; do not abuse my trust." With that final command, Director A rose from his seat and left the room.

Flabbergasted, the remaining five men stared at each other, until the little boy came back into the room.

"I am I-five-zero-five-two-three. Director A said that I am to take you to your new offices. Please follow me."

The doctors rose slowly, pushed their chairs under the table, and followed the boy out of the room. On their way out of the building, Riez noticed Director A's title on an office door. He caught a glimpse of the man sitting behind a large desk, head buried in his hands.

"What an odd man," he said quietly to himself.


	3. Chapter 3: A Chosen Few

A Man's World

Chapter 3: The Chosen Few 

by terre nymphe

as aforementioned in the summary, this piece borrows both characters and storylines from Gundam Wing, Sailor Moon, and Dark Angel. I do not own, nor have any claim to, any of these shows and/or comics. I apologize for any perceived plagiarism and assure readers that it is not intentional.

Exhausted, Director A poured a shot of vodka and downed it with conviction. Years of research and work had finally come to fruition, and it had been a success. His little project, his little girl, she was perfect. He'd only seen her through a window in med bay, but he knew. He knew she was perfect.

The moment that slimy little doctor had called to say the surrogate's water had broken; Director A's chest had tightened. As despicable as Smith had been, he'd been well qualified, as well as, disposable. Director A regretted that he could not have been at the warehouse to witness the birth, but it was in his best interest to keep up the appearance of the professionalism and the apathy that was expected from him. The other five Founders would frown on some of the choices he'd made in regards to his soldier, so he did everything he could to avoid their questions.

Staring down at the empty glass in front of him, the tired man slipped into a deep meditation, reflecting on the circumstances that had gotten him this far.

Akai Kenobi was working toward a research grant from the United Nations Genetics Research Institute for a new study of recombinant DNA, and he was confident that the grant would come through. The board of directors had been flabbergasted with his proposal; he hypothesized that with a little pre-zygotic DNA manipulation, humans could be made to be invulnerable to a variety of diseases. He had been successful in a similar experiment with rabbits while still in graduate school. After he'd graduated with honors from Oxford University, he had submitted his thesis to the UNGRI. Hundreds of other men were vying for the grant, but he was still confident. After all, he was the best of the best.

A few weeks after his presentation, Akai received a letter from the UNGRI. The news was devastating; the board had been impressed with the progress he'd made but was unwilling to allow him to work with human embryos, something had been mentioned about misplaced ethics. Numb, he'd shuffled through the rest of his mail with little interest, that is, until he came upon a manila envelope. Aside from his name printed on the front, it bore no identifying marks. Curious, Akai opened the envelope. Inside, a piece of paper with the following instructions: "Your talents have not gone unnoticed. A ticket waits for you at the airport, be there by 1600. Pack for warm weather." Without any thought to the note's validity, Akai decided to go through with it; after all, he had nothing to lose. He glanced at his watch, only an hour to pack and get to the airport.

Three hours later, Akai was looking out the window of a small private plane he was sharing with seven other men. The plane had been flown directly to each man's home city, and Akai was the last of the eight to be retrieved. The men kept mostly to their own countenance, speaking only when the silence became too overbearing. Akai had not spoken at all; he merely watched the others from his own little corner of the plane. They were a strange amalgamation of specialists with no idea of what was in store for them. They had all been applicants for the UNGRI grant, and had all received the same manila envelope with their rejection letter.

Jitsu Kitanai, another Japanese native, was a silent, shrewd man who spoke only when directly addressed. His UNGRI proposal had focused on the manipulation of nanotechnology to produce universally acceptable human organs for donation. The idea was impressive, but he too was rejected for "misplaced ethics."

In the next seat was Ou-Yang Jiao from China. He was convinced he could prove that with selective breeding, intense structure, and extensive training children could be uber-soldiers. Aloof and proud, his personality left a lot to be desired. His scornful glare was the source of more than one argument with the third member of the group, Alphonse Bertillon.

The Frenchman spoke harshly and often with no tact and no regard for others. He and Ou-Yang almost made it to the point of physical violence when he insulted Asian standards of education while explaining his brilliant grant proposal on the importance of pre-birth cognitive development.

Yamani Hassan played peacemaker and managed to calm the two men. Hailing from Saudi Arabia, the pacifist was an expert on evolution and animal adaptations. He'd proposed a study of a group of children and their emotional, mental, and physical development in different extreme situations.

The next man was Mikhail Stravinsky. An intensely serious man, he was a major financial contributor to the Russian government, and he owned a traveling circus. He studied mutations. His proposal had included the intentional mutation of embryos and the study of their development. His rejection letter had included both a reference to "misplaced ethics" and notification that any future grant applications to UNGRI would be denied regardless of the subject.

The Egyptian, Tulun al-Masr, received the same type of letter. His focus had been very similar to Jitsu's; he wanted to clone humans for organ harvesting.

The last and definitely loudest member of the group was the American, Alexander Gaines. He wanted funding to sponsor a study of embryonic trait manipulation. He was already letting expectant parents choose traits for their children, but to avoid legal issues, he'd wanted a legitimate cover. He was also in the midst of development of a full line of cyber-robotic body parts.

As soon as the final introductions were made, the men carried on polite conversations and shared conjecture on the nature of their trip. Akai abstained from joining any of the talks; he simply turned to look out his window. He was amazed that the other seemingly levelheaded men had agreed to go into the situation as blindly as he had. Was it possible that, like him, they too had nothing to lose?

The plane was now flying low over the top of a rainforest. The men hadn't been told where they were headed, but by the look of the forest, Akai decided that they were somewhere over upper South America. Soon, an announcement from the pilot that the plane would soon be landing near Brasilia, Brazil confirmed his observations. Twenty minutes later, the plane touched down on a makeshift runway. A pair of black-clad figures led the eight men to two unmarked black vans and whisked them away into the thick rainforest.

The vans traveled east until they reached an unassuming office building on the outskirts of Brasilia. The men were ushered inside. A heavy clang of the closing door and the distinct thump of a deadbolt served to put the men on edge. Tensed, Akai looked around the room. A large table took up most of the space, and the chairs were labeled with each man's name. Still leery, Akai found his seat; Jitsu and Stravinsky soon followed his example. Gradually, the others found their seats as well. As the last man sat down, a door opened on the other side of the room. Four men came sauntering in; they sat in the remaining chairs.

"Gentlemen, welcome. My name is Giovanni Castilla. To my right are Sepedi Lahari, Darwin Canberra, and Verner von Karlfeldt. We represent a special UN taskforce. We have a proposition for you, doctors, and all we ask is that you hold all questions until the explanation is complete." Castilla then looked to his colleagues to finish the presentation. Canberra nodded to him and began to speak.

"Unbeknownst to the average citizens of the world, the space colonies have started stirring up trouble. They've begun production on a mobile suit army, training of military personnel, and demanding new laws. The UN predicts that within twenty years, the space colonies will begin the petition to become their own 'country'. Such a petition would mean inflation, rebellion, and overall unpleasantness. To prevent an uprising, Earth must be prepared with our own army. The UN is reluctant to raise the alarm for fear of a global panic, as well as, early action from the colonies." Canberra motioned for Lahari to take his turn. Lahari cleared his throat and looked the eight men in the eye, watching for any sign of weakness or apprehension.

"We have been commissioned to create a perfect army, an army of super-soldiers. We need an army that can survive in the extreme conditions of space, as well as, the harshest conditions on Earth. We need assassains, spies, and covert operatives. We need them to pilot mobile suits and we need mobile suits for them to pilot. In short, we need a undefeatable army and we need them now." Lahari watched as the Egyptian wiggled uncomfortably in his seat. Then he looked to von Karlfeldt to finish the explanation.

"This is to be a long-term, covert operation. You eight were chosen for your skills and ambitions, as well as, your status as loners. You have nothing to lose by joining this mission. You will be paid handsomely, you will be given limitless funding, you will be able to conduct your own research at will, and you will have total diplomatic immunity. You have total autonomy, no board of directors and no code of ethics. We want this army by any means necessary. We don't care who you hire, who you fire, or who you have to kill. We just want a perfect army."

The eight doctors were floored. They hadn't been sure what to expect from this journey, but this was overwhelming. They looked around at each other, silently. Akai contemplated his decision for a few minutes before speaking up.

"I accept your offer, sirs," he spoke clearly and with authority.

Jitsu accepted next. Stravinsky agreed to the terms too, followed by Ou-Yang, Hassan, and Gaines. Bertillon, on the other hand, was quiet for the first time all day. He glanced around the room, fidgeting in his seat. Exchanging looks with al-Masr, he rested his head on his hands in deep thought. Ten minutes went by in silence before he spoke.

"What happens to us if we do not accept this offer?" he asked Castilla with a tremor in his voice.

Castilla smiled at the man, "You will be sent home."

Visibly relaxed, Bertillon and al-Masr nodded to each other and turned back toward Castilla.

"As generous as your offer may seem, I cannot, in good conscience, be a part of this organization." With that said, Tulun al-Masr stood up and walked toward the door. Bertillon rose from his seat and followed the Egyptian. A loud click was heard as the deadbolt was lifted, and the two men were led from the room. The door was soon closed again. Akai and Jitsu exchanged meaningful looks, for they knew what was to become of the dissenters. A quick look at Ou-Yang, Stravinsky, Hassan, and Gaines showed that they knew what was coming as well. Soon, two muffled shots reverberate through the building. The ten men still left in the room didn't even blink.

Soon after the purging of the naysayers, Castilla revealed the particulars of the assignment. They would be based in a compound, a week's drive from Brasilia, and they had thirty years to produce a fully functional military. Castilla reiterated to the men that there were no moral guidelines.

"The conclave and I may drop in to check on your progress every few years or so, but other than that, you are on your own. As Mr. von Karlfeldt so eloquently mentioned earlier, employees are under your purview. As long as this project is kept secret, you six may do anything you wish. You need only to request funds, and they will be wired to a series of offshore accounts."

The men discussed the project well into the night. The next day, they were taken back to the makeshift airport. In the interest of time, there were separate planes waiting for each man and they were flown home. They were given a week to disappear. They had to sever ties to all friends and family, sell their houses, and pack whatever they were bringing to Brazil.

When the week was up, a single plane came to retrieve them. This trip was different in every way to their first. They discussed the different ways of creating their army. They tossed around the idea of drafting the best of all current militaries and giving them intensive training, but they decided that it would call too much attention to the project. The next idea was cerebral implants that would make the bearer invincible. For a while, it seemed like the best route to go.

"Where do you propose we find these implantees?" Hassan questioned. "We would need men with nothing to lose."

"We could use prisoners. Death row inmates have nothing to lose, though we'd have to get them from third-world countries. They're not as strict on human rights," said Ou-Yang.

"Nah, it wouldn't work. The "implantees" would burn out within a week of the implant, and as bad as the crime rate has become, we'd start to run out of soldiers. Besides, the public would question the lack of executions. Everybody likes a good lynching," Gaines smirked.

By then, the other men had gotten used to Gaines' twisted sense of humor; they ignored the joke and focused on the facts. They tossed around a few more ideas before Akai spoke for the first time.

"Enough of these ridiculous proposals. We know where this is heading, but you all are too timid to say it. We have to create this army from the beginning. We need viable embryos that we can manipulate. We need a disposable staff of doctors, pediatricians, trainers, and educators. We will make an army from these perfect children. We must instill in them enough intelligence and skill that they will be an entire army in themselves."

The other men nodded in agreement, many of them feeling weak for not voicing the same thoughts that had been running through their minds for days. Stravinsky was the next to speak.

"Regular humans are not enough. We can never train them to be fast enough or quiet enough. I propose that we combine animal DNA with our carefully selected embryos. Feline DNA for example, would ensure stealth and physical dexterity. Akai has the expertise to manipulate and combine the species."

Akai silently cursed the man for introducing the concept. He'd been planning to do exactly as Stravinsky had proposed, but he knew that at least three of his colleagues would have serious objections. He had planned to approach Stravinsky and Jitsu with his idea, but now it was ruined.

Stravinsky was watching for the reactions from the other men. Hassan, Ou-Yang, and Gaines were bewildered and almost disgusted. They vehemently protested the idea, citing moral issues. Inwardly amused at the irony of the statement, Stravinsky looked to the other two men. Akai was fuming and Jitsu was unreadable. He knew that the Japanese men were not opposed to the idea, but he wasn't sure why they hadn't spoken their support. He watched as they exchanged glances and then look at him. Their slight, affirmative nods were barely discernible. It was then that a secret alliance was made within the sextet.

Twenty years went by quickly, and the group, now called The Society, had successfully created a small army of young super-soldiers. Through selective breeding, manipulation of the embryos, and extensive training from birth, these little boys were rival to the best of the best of any military establishment. They were treated as soldiers and as puppets; they had no creature comforts, no mothers, no coddling. They were living machines. Rising before dawn and training until sun down, the boys were well on their way to becoming a cohesive unit.

The six doctors, barring a few disagreements, had worked well together over the years. There was one source of tension in the group, though. Each of the men had their own idea of the perfect soldier. True, they had created an effective army, but the boys worked best as a group. There was a need for soldiers that could work independently, and this is where the stalemate began. The doctors' different backgrounds and level of morality made it hard for them to agree on the characteristics of the perfect soldier. To solve this problem, they each decided to create their own soldier. This arrangement suited Akai well. He, Stravinsky, and Jitsu had already been in the midst of creating their own soldiers, soldiers with animal DNA. About eight years into the project, Akai successfully finished manipulating his first embryo. It was merely a trial run, but the procedure was showing great promise. Now, he and the other two in the alliance were finishing out their three perfect embryos. Among other species, each embryo had been given feline DNA. This would allow the boys to see in the dark, jump long distances, and they would possess extraordinary agility and speed.

Stravinsky, now known as Doktor S, was the first to implant his embryo. A few months later, Jitsu, Dr. J, implanted the surrogate mother for his soldier. Gaines, who was known as Professor G, was next, then Ou-Yang who preferred to be called Master O and Hassan, Instructor H. Akai, who had dubbed himself Director A, was the last. He had had to make a few more adjustments and he needed to finish his experiment in secret. He was adding a few more strains of animal DNA to his embryo, but he didn't want his two other compatriots to know. He added some shark DNA to cut down on his soldier's need for sleep, and to ensure that his soldier was truly the best he added a few more strains of feline DNA. He just wanted his little girl to be unbeatable. Yes, his little _girl_. None of the other founders knew what he'd done. They had all agreed at the beginning that girls had no place in an army, but Akai knew better. He knew that she would be able to go places and uncover things that boys would never be able to. He knew that a woman was exactly what The Society needed.

Smoothing the wrinkles in his shirt, he left the quiet of his office and walked toward the med bay. As he crossed the compound, he paused to watch the '8' series run the obstacle course. The perfectly synchronized movements reminded him of the traveling circus and ballet troupe sponsored by Doktor S. The discipline and grace were inspiring. He made a mental note to hire a ballet tutor for Usagi.

"Usagi . . . yes, that will be her name. A fitting tribute to the lab rabbits that got me this job." He thought to himself.

With the exception of their 'perfect soldiers', The Society had decided not to give the soldiers names. Aside from not wanting the extra trouble, names were too humanizing. Instead, they had decided on numbers. Each batch of soldiers (one created every two years) had its own number– 1, 2, 3, and so on. Within the series, each specialty had its own prefix; infantry was 'I', medics were 'M', recognizance was 'R', etc . . . Only during missions would the boys be addressed by names. The perfect soldiers, or the gundam zero series (G0-), were given names, but the names were to be used only by The Founders– never while in general population.

When he reached the nursery, Director A pulled out his "Founder face"– strict and disapproving. His team of doctors was in the midst of testing Usagi's immune system, but they ceased when he walked through the door.

"Gentlemen, how is our newest addition faring?"

"So far, so good, sir."

"Thank you, Dr. Riez. I trust you have moved the child into a separate room."

"Yes, G0- 0630 has the room next to the nursery."

"Good. Well, go on about your business; I'll keep you no longer."

Director A managed to keep the smile off of his face but barely. Usagi was alive and in one year she would be able to begin training. He just had to make sure that the other Founders didn't find out before he was prepared.


	4. Chapter 4: And So it Begins

A Man's World Chapter 4: And So It Begins 

by terre nymphe

as aforementioned in the summary, this piece borrows both characters and storylines from Gundam Wing, Sailor Moon, and Dark Angel. I do not own, nor have any claim to, any of these shows and/or comics. I apologize for any perceived plagiarism and assure readers that it is not intentional.

Director A looked down at the circled date on his calendar. It was Usa's birthday. Exactly fifteen years ago, he'd received the call from Dr. Smith. Fourteen years ago, she'd begun her training. Ten years ago, she'd been further sequestered and the intensity of her training had been increased exponentially. Three years ago, she'd been implanted with her security clearance chip. Now, she was fifteen and ready for fieldwork, skipping general population for now. All she needed now was her identification tattoo and she would be off on her first real mission. A knock on the door was enough to wipe the tiny smirk of pride from his face.

"You may enter."

"G0-0630 reporting as ordered, sir!"

"Sit down Usagi. I have some work to finish before we take our little trip."

The girl sat down on the edge of the nearest chair; her posture was perfect. Director A took a good look at the girl sitting in front of him. She stared straight ahead– fully aware of his intense scrutiny. Her petite figure, long blonde hair, and ice blue eyes carefully hid the powerhouse that she really was. To an outside observer, she might seem to be innocent and frail, but in reality, she had the strength and ability to kill a man with her pinkie– he'd seen her do it. He had created her with this kind of deception in mind. Her training program had been almost identical to the program developed by Dr. J for his soldier. Usagi was proficient in weapons, strategy, physical combat/acrobatics, intelligence, and she was a fully trained medic. The feline DNA incorporated in her genetic make-up added many advantages. She could see long distances and in the dark; she could balance on a wire; she could run faster than a speeding bullet; and she could leap tall buildings in a single bound. As if that wasn't enough, Director A had added shark DNA, which allowed her to stay awake, alert, and fully functioning with a minimum of 7 hours of sleep per week. The other 161 hours in the week were devoted purely to training. She was indeed a super-being.

In addition to her military training, Usagi was a classically trained dancer. Director A had foreseen the need for her to interact in high society functions with victims and informants, as well as, the easily infiltrated entertainment business. If she couldn't finagle her way into the parties with an invitation or a date, she could pose as entertainment. He'd had her exposed to every type of dance he could find tutors for. The emphasis, though, had fallen on ballet, and Usagi excelled in it. The discipline required in ballet rivaled that of the discipline demanded by The Society. It was a comfortable position for her, and she liked it as much as she liked anything– or was allowed to like anything.

"I am ready to go now, Usagi." Director rose from his seat and left the room; followed closely by the silent soldier.

The pair stopped by the Requisitions building and retrieved the suitcase for Usagi's first mission before walking to the motor pool. A car was waiting for them and it drove off as soon as the director closed the door behind him. The trip continued in silence. While Usa studied her mission specs for the last time, Director A used the time to reflect on the past few years.

Five years ago, the Founders decided to switch teams– sort of. The UN taskforce that had formed and bankrolled the project, as well as, the entire world's government had been replaced by the OZ organization. Secretly, OZ had been running things for years, but they'd decided to go public. The change in power had threatened the anonymity of The Society and its goals. The Founders did not want OZ to find out about the program and disrupt the valuable research and work they'd accomplished. To solve the problem, they'd gotten in touch with the ruling families of the space colonies, and in essence, switched sides. The addition of The Society allowed the space colonies to go ahead with their plan to fight for their freedom. Many Society soldiers had been deployed across the world, establishing safe houses, bases, contacts, and shell companies– everything a covert operation would require. The Society's new mission statement was to get rid of OZ.

When he was finished reminiscing, Director A turned to Usagi and together they reviewed her mission specifications. The pair had an interesting relationship. He treated her like a soldier, but he spoke to her almost like a daughter, not with kindness so much as with informality. She called him "sir" and her posture was always straighter when he entered a room, but he spoke to her with a conversational tone and never gave her a direct order– not that he needed to. Usagi would follow him to the ends of the earth. He was the father figure she wasn't supposed to have and she was the daughter in the life that he hadn't allowed himself to partake of.

The journey ended in a week. The van pulled into a dark alley behind an abandoned warehouse. Usagi had been here fifteen years before, though she would not have remembered it. Director A found it quite poetic that her last bit of freedom would die in the same room in which she'd been born. He, closely followed by Usagi, found his way inside via the well-hidden service entrance. They walked through the dimly lit hallways until they reached the only room with furniture. A short, portly man was waiting for them; his name, not that it mattered, was Hector. He motioned Usagi to the table in front of him. With a glance to Director A for approval, Usagi unbelted her trousers and lay down. Hector's eyes widened a bit at the sight of her smooth, unblemished skin; Usagi saw his reaction but remained unaffected. Hector raised his hand to her hip to hold her in place. With his other hand, he tattooed her. She was to have a small, black crescent moon on the right side of her pelvis, directly above her credentials (G0-0630). The numbers were in barcode form and had been present since birth– encoded in her DNA. As her identification tattoos, they had to be discreet. Were they ever seen, she would be able to explain them away as a youthful indiscretion.

Hector finished the last bit of shading and stepped back to admire his work– and the girl. She had not so much flinched through the entire process. He'd seen the roughest bikers cry when they were being tattooed, but this girl had not even whimpered. He took one last swipe at the tattoo with his towel, letting his fingers linger for a minute. Unlike the others, she didn't shy away from his inappropriate caress. He looked up at her face and was met with two emotionless, ice blue eyes. She rose from the table, readjusted her pants, and returned to Director A's side. Hector turned to look at the other man and was surprised by what he saw. There was a gun pointed at his head; the face behind it was twisted in rage. Director A stared him straight in the eyes.

"If you ever touch her again, I will burn off your hands. If you ever look at her like that again, I will cut out your eyes. And if you ever tell anyone that G0-0630 is female, I will rip out your tongue."

Hector nodded slowly. He knew the risks when he joined the Society. He knew that any screw up could result in a bullet between the eyes, but he had never actually been so scared as he was now. He had encounters with the other five Founders, but none of them were as menacing as Director A.

Putting his gun back in its holster, Director A turned to the girl. She was unfazed. She'd been trained to use her sexuality to her advantage– it was just another weapon. Hector's attention had not bothered her, though she seemed slightly surprised by her Founder's reaction. He was surprised as well. He knew that she would have to endure this sort of treatment eventually and made sure she could handle it. He worried about her sometimes though. He and Dr. J had purposely created emotionless soldiers– living machines. The idea had been favorable at the time, but Director A almost regretted his decision. Usa just seemed so empty. Selfish as it seemed, he wanted her to feel the same kind of devotion for him that he felt for her– he wanted his daughter to love him. He hoped that when the threat of OZ was extinguished, she would be able to put aside her soldier ways and consent to live a "normal" life as his daughter. Storing the unrealistic hope in the back of his head, he put on his "Founder face" and headed toward the door. As silently as they'd entered, they left the warehouse and made their way back to the van. Sitting next to it was a sleek, black motorcycle. Director A handed Usagi the key and, with a final salute, she rode off on her first mission.


	5. Chapter 5: Meanwhile In the Compound

A Man's World Chapter 5: Meanwhile, In the Compound . . . 

by terre nymphe

as aforementioned in the summary, this piece borrows both characters and storylines from Gundam Wing, Sailor Moon, and Dark Angel. I do not own, nor have any claim to, any of these shows and/or comics. I apologize for any perceived plagiarism and assure readers that it is not intentional.

While the furtive Director A was focused on Usagi, the other five Founders were deeply entrenched in the training and cultivation of their perfect soldiers. They often wondered and speculated as to the reason Director A kept himself and his boy isolated but didn't dwell too much on the man's eccentricity. They all had secrets; the fact was just accepted and ignored– there were more important things to attend to.

The boys' basic training regimen followed that of the regular soldiers, or the infantry as they were labeled. After their year in decontamination, they were sent to the nursery building. Each boy was given his own room; the Founders didn't want them to form the close bonds exhibited by the infantry. They needed to be able to act independently of other soldiers.

At age five, the five "perfects" began sharing a room. They completed the basics together and had meals together, but each boy's specializations were overseen by his specific Founder– isolated from the others. When each boy turned fifteen, he was given his identification tattoo (on his right pectoral), made eligible for fieldwork, and put into general population. Within the general population, they quickly rose to high-ranking positions. They were the Gundam Zero series and even the older infantry members had a great respect for them.

The first "perfect" to be born was Trowa, G0-0372. Trowa was a tall, muscular boy. His lean frame was perfect for the designs of his Founder, Doktor S, who believed that both stealth and dexterity, in combination with above average intellect, were key to a well-rounded warrior. This philosophy was the inspiration for Trowa's identification tattoo. He was given a simple but perfect outline of a circle. Within The Society, a small, secret pro-splicing alliance had been formed among Doktor S, Director A, and Dr. J. Doktor S had Director A to splice feline DNA into Trowa's genetic code to ensure extraordinary agility and speed. The fact that he could see in the dark and far into the distance were just added bonuses. While he waited for the other G0s to come of age, Trowa was a member of the traveling circus owned secretly by Doktor S. It was both an attempt to test his readiness as a covert agent and an operation to ferret out the identity of a double agent within the organization. Though the circus manager had no idea that he had Society members in his employ and the agents didn't know each other's identities, they comprised almost one-fifth of his staff. One of the men had been selling research to OZ. All Trowa had been able to determine was that the man was not an actual soldier; he had to have been a lab tech or trainer, etc . . . When the last "perfect" was approved for missions, Trowa was sent back to the base, though he was to return as soon as possible.

The second "perfect" born was G0-0147, Heero. He was Dr. J's prodigy. He, like Usagi, was expected to be emotionless and unconditionally obedient– and he was. Also, like Usagi and Trowa, he had feline DNA. Dr. J was equally, if not more, stringent about physical training as Doktor S. He was even stricter about Heero's intellectual nurturing. He trained the boy to be a proficient computer hacker/programmer; his skills were almost unparalleled. His identification tattoo was an infinity symbol. It was to be indicative of his intelligence and perseverance. While he was waiting for the other three "perfects" to turn fifteen, Heero helped the Founders design and program the newest mobile suits, the Gundams. His series had been created to fight with the special mobile suits, among other things, and Heero was determined to create a suit to fit his skill level. His most recent project was testing the Zero system, there were a few bugs to work out, but the project was to be put on hold for a while. He had a hand in the production of four of the other suits too. He would have liked to design the suit for Director A's soldier, but the Founder had assured him that his soldier had it under control; Heero was highly skeptical. He even went so far as to sneak into the production warehouse to fix the suit. The Society couldn't afford to have substandard equipment, and if he wasn't involved, the suit was sure to be substandard. To his ultimate frustration, the warehouse was protected by a complex security system, one he couldn't hack into. It was a very small comfort to know that someone on Director A's team was as good with a computer as he was. Maybe the entire fate of the Society didn't have to depend on his skill alone.

The third "perfect" was G0-0504, Wufei. From the time he was born, Master O instilled in him an overbearing arrogance and sense of pride. He also emphasized honor and tradition. This was represented by his tattoo; the dragon on his right pectoral embodied the history of his people, as well as, his personal strength and ability. Wufei took to heart the fact that he was genetically superior to almost everyone. Master O had searched all over China for the purest bloodlines. He was not amenable to the interspecies splicing; he wouldn't stand for his soldier to be defiled with animal DNA. He did put a great bit of effort into researching what genes he wanted manipulated before submitting the embryo to Director A and his lab techs; he was not against the manipulation of existing DNA strands. Master O wanted things the way he wanted them, and he was vocal in his quest to create a perfect being. This need for absolute control was passed down to Wufei, and it gave him the drive to be an excellent strategist. His specialty was; however, physical combat. He spent all of his free time training with his katana or challenging the other "perfects" to hand-to-hand combat. Wufei's pride would not allow him to fight those of lesser skill, except when ordered by a trainer. He knew that he was better than they were, and he found no honor in beating the weak.

The fourth "perfect" was Duo, G0-0299. His Founder, Professor G, was also opposed to the addition of animal DNA to the embryos– out loud anyway. He really thought the idea was kind of cool, but since all of the other Founders were against it, he let the idea go. Duo was an unusual soldier. His personality was mischievous and playful– strange for an engineered killing machine. His identification tattoo was just as contradicting as his personality. He thought it was just too ironic to pass up; he chose an ankh– the symbol for life. Whether his long braid and loud mouth were part of a cunning veneer and carefully planned method of misdirection or simply his natural disposition, his Founder was unsure and didn't much care. Duo's appointed focus was weaponry. He was currently working to set up a secret base in the Rub al Khali desert in Saudi Arabia, and was having the time of his life. He had to make frequent trips to a myriad of foreign cities and he had a long list of girlfriends in each city. Though Duo's actions were totally inappropriate, Professor G took pride in his soldier's ability with women and subtly encouraged him.

The fifth "perfect" was Quatre, G0-0483. Instructor H was vehemently opposed to the mixing of species– not for moral reasons though. He thought it was a waste of time and money. He was sure that the experiment would fail, and the Society did not have time for failure– there was too much at stake. Deciding to focus on academics, Instructor H set about training his "perfect" to excel in intelligence. Quatre was the communications expert; he gathered, processed, and relayed to The Society so they could form mission objectives. He was also the best at field medicine. He would rather heal than hurt, so he put extra effort into the training. He even chose the caduceus for his identification tattoo. Personality-wise, Quatre was the strangest of the "perfect" group. Though he was trained to kill and destroy, his disposition was geared more toward pacifism. For each person he killed, he made a point to truly help two in people in return. His present mission was essential in his plan. He was posing as the long lost son of the Rabera Winner family of Saudi Arabia. He had access to limitless funds and he used some of the money to build orphanages and schools– it gave him some peace with what he was created to do.

The five boys, against the wishes and designs of their Founders, had created a bond. True, they could function without each other, but they preferred to work together. They knew that they were different from everyone else, even the infantry soldiers. It was more satisfying to be in the company of equals. Now, they had all returned to the base to give progress reports. At the moment, they were standing in formation with the infantry soldiers. It was the first time they had all been together in about six months, but they wouldn't be able to speak to each other until morning drills were complete. And as demeaning as they found the position, they knew better than to complain.

As soon as drills were completed, the boys were immediately ordered to the debriefing room. When they arrived, the six Founders were already seated. Taking their customary places at the end of the long conference table, the boys took turns sharing the information they had gathered.

Trowa was first. He was close to discovering the identity of the mole. He did express his reluctance to return to leave the circus to return to the base; he had been gone for a week and was sure that he was going to miss something.

"You needn't worry about something going awry in your absence. I sent G0-0630 in your place; perhaps my soldier will be able to find out the mole for you." Director A chose his words carefully– avoiding 'he' and 'she.'

"Yes, sir." Trowa was skeptical though. No one, barring Director A and his staff, had ever seen the youngest of the gundam zero series. G0-0630 would have just been cleared for solo missions within the past week, and Trowa was still confident that he would the one to find the mole– it was his mission after all.

Heero was thinking the same things. There must be something wrong with the sixth "perfect." No one had ever seen him or even heard his name; maybe he didn't have one. The Founders had given the "perfects" names to make them feel superior. If G0-0630 wasn't superior, he wouldn't have received a name. It was a curious affair and intrigued the gundam boys to no end.

Heero was the next to give an update. He announced the completion of the gundam prototype. Wufei wasn't in the middle of any mission, so he remained silent. Next, Duo told the Founders all about the desert base. Quatre was last. He informed the Society that the head of the Rabera Winner house had passed away the day before. The old man had named Quatre the heir to the family business and fortune. This news was pleasing to the Founders; now they had control of one of the most influential families on Earth, as well as, the space colonies.

When the debriefing was over, each Founder whisked his soldier away to conduct further questioning, etc . . . Instructor H wanted to know more about the inner workings of the Rabera Winner family. Professor G was interested in the blueprints for Duo's desert base. Master O needed to brief Wufei on his upcoming mission. Dr. J took Heero to the production warehouse; he wanted to see the prototypes for himself. Doktor S sent Trowa to pack his bags. He agreed with the boy; a week was too long to be away. He needed to get back to the circus immediately. Director A walked silently back to his corner of the compound, a smug smile was on his face. He knew that the other ten men that had been in the room doubted his soldier's abilities. They would find out how wrong they were soon enough. Usagi had already informed him that she'd narrowed the suspects down to three. She was going to "take care of it" and return within the week. Allowing himself a chuckle, he imagined the other Founders' faces when they found out that his soldier had done what Trowa could not. Usagi's time had come, and in that, so had his.


	6. Chapter 6: To Join the Circus

A Man's World Chapter 6: I've Run Away to Join the Circus 

by terre nymphe

as aforementioned in the summary, this piece borrows both characters and storylines from Gundam Wing, Sailor Moon, and Dark Angel. I do not own, nor have any claim to, any of these shows and/or comics. I apologize for any perceived plagiarism and assure readers that it is not intentional.

The wind was whipping her hair back and forth and creating tangles the size of hand grenades. Usagi was enjoying every bit of it. Pushing her brand-new, sleek, black, beautiful motorcycle as fast as it could go, she stared at the empty road ahead of her and reviewed her mission for the hundredth time. She was to join the Bloom traveling circus. It was run by Charles Bloom and his daughter Catherine, but it was secretly owned by one of the other Founders. Usagi's mission was to identify the mole that had been selling Society research and arrange for him to have a fatal accident.

The circus was real and functioning and most of the employees were clueless as to The Society's involvement. There were, at last count, twelve lab techs and trainers on the circus' payroll. They used it as a cover for their real jobs– mostly to avoid paying exorbitant income tax on their generous salaries. And, there was at least one person that was using it as a place to further supplement his income by selling priceless information to the other side.

Another "perfect" had originally been given the mission but had to return to the base before he could finish it. He would be back at the circus soon; she wanted to kill the mole and get back to the base before he found out whom she was. Usagi knew that all of the soldiers were supposed to be male; she'd been sequestered all of her life because she was not. It was frustrating, but Director A had promised her that soon she could play as big a part in the Society as the rest of the gundam zero series.

She parked her motorcycle next to a huge willow tree at the edge of the compound. It wouldn't draw too much attention– she hoped. A cautious hand went to her hair; it was perfect. She was sporting a short, bright red, pageboy. It was less noticeable than her natural platinum blonde locks. Not that it would have mattered either way, but Usagi liked it. She did not; however, like the green contacts that she was forced to wear. The color was fine, but they were so damn uncomfortable. Her own ice-blue eyes were, once again, too noticeable. Or, at least, that's what Director A had told her. She often wondered why he had given her such distinguishing looks if they were always to be hidden under wigs, dye, contacts, and make-up.

These thoughts bordering on insubordinate, Usagi ceased them and subjected herself to two hundred push-ups as punishment. She dabbed the sweat from her face; heaven forbid she mess up her make-up. She had an image to project and people to impress.

She had already studied the compound layout included in her briefing, so she headed straight for the main big top. She arrived just in time to see Charles Bloom open the tent's flap. Adopting a doe eyes, a toothy smile, and a prancing gait, she followed him inside. Closing the flap behind her, she spotted the man at the far end of the tent. He was sitting on a crate, his head in his hands.

"What am I going to do? I never knew animals could be depressed. I can't the lions to come out of their cages. And even if I could, I'd still be one act short."

Bloom was almost in tears as he relayed his sorrows to a young, curly-headed woman. It was Catherine, his daughter. Patting his back, she reassured him they'd work it out. Usagi decided that it was the perfect time to make her grand entrance, and she quickly made her way toward the prone pair.

"Excuse me, are you Mr. Bloom?"

The man looked up, exasperated, "yes, what do you want?"

"Well, I've run away to join the circus," she had to force herself not to roll her eyes at . . . well . . . at herself. This act she was forced to put on was ridiculous and insulting to deep cover operatives everywhere– okay, she was being slightly dramatic.

"Unless you can tame lions and throw knives, you'll have to find another circus," Bloom said dismissively.

"Well, I don't throw knives and I've never tamed a lion, but if you would settle for a trapeze artist or a tightrope walker, I think I can help."

Bloom looked up at the girl; she was young, petite, and gorgeous. Even if she wasn't any good at the trapeze or the tightrope, she had enough draw as eye candy– the shows would be sold out. He motioned for her to show him some of her skill. She let loose a calculated giggle and walked to the ladder. Within seconds, she'd climbed to the top of the tightrope platform. Usagi completed a few of her Society warm-up exercises and moved on to the trapeze. By the time she was finished, Bloom's jaw was on the floor. She was amazing.

"You're hired. Catherine will take you to your trailer. The first show is at four o'clock; wear something short, tight, and sexy."

With that, he quickly walked out of the tent and headed back to his office; the smile on his face was a mile long. Usagi watched him go then turned to Catherine.

"My name is Sera," she told the girl standing next to her.

"It's great to have you, Sera. I'm Catherine Bloom, and that crazy man was my father," the older woman replied amiably.

"He seems nice," the simpering was making Usagi ill, but she had to keep it up.

"Yeah, well . . . come on, I'll take you to your trailer," Catherine said as she led 'Sera' through a maze of trailers; they stopped in front of a small brown one at the edge of the lot.

"Sorry, it's kind of small, but it's the only one left. It belonged to our last guy, Trowa. He was the knife-throwing lion tamer that Daddy was talking about."

"What happened to him?"

"I don't really know; he just disappeared. He's done it before, but never for this long. He might be back soon, but we never know."

Usagi considered the statement. This Trowa was probably a trainer at the Society; he might even be the spy that she was looking for. She followed Catherine inside and was surprised by what she found– or rather, what she didn't find. She'd expected clothes strewn on the bed and trash on the floor, but nothing was even dirty. There were no cobwebs, no dust, and, thankfully, no strange smells coming from the bathroom or refrigerator. Both beds were made up with military corners; there was even an olive-green trunk at the end of one of the beds. All in all, it was a refreshing and calming sight– a little bit of 'home' in the outside world.

"Trowa will probably back soon. I hope you won't mind sharing."

"Oh, I won't mind at all. I'm just glad to have a place to stay."

Catherine took Usagi's bag and tossed it on the bed nearest the door, and then she guided the new girl to the props trailer for a costume. There were few to choose from, but Catherine made her try them all– each more gaudy than the last. After an entire hour of insincere girly-ness, Usagi decided that she couldn't stand anymore. She'd settled on the one she'd wanted as soon as Catherine opened the trunk, but from her studies of female behavior at the Society, she knew she was expected to 'oooh' and 'ahhh' and change her mind a million times. She held up the costume of choice for the other girl to see. Catherine gave the simple, green unitard one glance and continued to dig around.

"Catherine, I really like this one."

"Sorry, Sera. It's way too plain. I made that, like, a thousand years ago; it's ugly!"

"But it fit perfectly."

"It would fit a cow perfectly. On you . . . it looks like a tent."

"That's okay. I don't want it too tight," 'Sera' whined with mock modesty.

Catherine stopped rooting through the trunk and sat back on her heels, "look darlin', this is a skin business. You know that you're awesome and I know you're awesome, but unless you got some way to hook those customers, no one else will ever see you. Show a little leg, a little cleavage, and you're set."

Usagi was becoming increasingly frustrated with her new 'friend.' She had other things to attend to– a vital mission to complete. Suddenly, an idea hit her and she plastered a smile on her face.

"If it's too plain, just fix it."

Catherine faced her, another repulsive outfit in her grasp, "what?"

"Well, you made all of these gorgeous costumes, right?" 'Sera' said, Usagi inwardly gagging. "Please! I really like this color."

"Well, yeah . . . hmmm . . . I guess I could do it before the first show. The base is already there . . . Okay, just let me get your measurements and I'll get to work," she said with an almost maniacal gleam in her eye– Usagi was a bit worried.

"Just keep it simple; I don't want a lot of sparkle and flash to distract from my act," Usagi told her.

Though it was merely confidence in her abilities, her tone was arrogant– a far cry from her Sera character and way too close to her real personality. She would have to watch this kind of slip-up in the future. Catherine, on the other hand, paid her no mind. She was used to this type of behavior; Trowa was extremely arrogant as well. With a few empty promises to "keep it simple," Catherine shooed Sera from the trailer and told her to go practice. As Usagi walked away, her enhanced ears allowed her to hear Catherine ordering some anonymous circus hand to find some sequins, beads, and extra fabric. Catherine was just keeping it simple.


	7. Chapter 7: Mission One the Mole

A Man's World

Chapter 7: Mission One– the Mole

by terre nymphe

as aforementioned in the summary, this piece borrows both characters and storylines from Gundam Wing, Sailor Moon, and Dark Angel. I do not own, nor have any claim to, any of these shows and/or comics. I apologize for any perceived plagiarism and assure readers that it is not intentional.

Usagi walked around the compound for a while– eavesdropping on conversations and 'making friends' with the rest of the largely predominantly male crew. During that time, she'd managed to narrow the list of suspects to three. There was the circus strongman, Arnold Costa, who was definitely a Society trainer. The next suspect was the mousy and quiet popcorn vendor, Edward Benedict, one of the lab techs on Master O's "perfect" staff. And then there was the ever-elusive star, Trowa. She didn't know who he was or what he did for the Society, but his presence, or lack thereof, was too suspicious not to investigate. She looked down at her watch and excused herself from a conversation she was having with Arnold, but not before coming away with a dinner invitation. She only had an hour before the show and there was still one area left to visit– Charles Bloom's office.

As she neared the trailer, Usagi's senses went on alert, her instincts screamed for her to stop. She melted into the shadows, looking about for signs of danger. Her gaze finally landed on a cage near Bloom's office. Inside, pacing restlessly, were four beautiful lionesses. Her curiosity aroused, Usagi crept to the cage. She stood at the door, watching them. The largest lioness also stopped and stared at the creature outside her cage. Their eyes locked and, for five minutes, neither female moved. To an outside observer, 'Sera' must have appeared frozen in fear. In actuality, she was really fighting for her position as a supreme alpha female.

Finally, the lioness lowered her neck in submission. A roar emanated from the next cage– there was the pride's leader Usagi's head jerked up and she began to emit an almost imperceptible growl. He too lowered his neck in deference. Usagi's growl turned into a purr, that is, until she heard thundering footsteps headed her way. The lioness began pacing again and Usagi reached in the cage to pat her head. She wasn't going to let anything happen to them.

Usagi's super extraordinary senses, calming down from her challenge, returned to their merely extraordinary status. The footsteps and the breathing of the intruder quieted down to a tolerable volume. She turned her head slightly and saw Catherine approaching with an armful of green fabric– no threat to her pride.

"Wow, Sera! I thought you said you'd never tamed a lion. This is so great! Oh god, Trowa will be so jealous!" Catherine babbled excitedly.

Usagi's hackles rose again, "Why would he be jealous?"

"Well, the lions won't behave for anyone else besides him– he always seemed so proud of that."

Now, Usagi was jealous. She stared at the lions as if for an explanation, but all she found were ten pairs of eyes watching her with total devotion. While she thought about that, something Catherine said stuck out in her mind.

"You said he _will_ be jealous. Does that mean he's back?"

"He just called to say that he'd be here tomorrow. Now, come on; you've got a show to do."

Usagi followed the girl to the big top and allowed herself to be pushed into the dressing area. Catherine dumped the mountain of green into 'Sera's' hands and turned her back so the girl could dress. Usagi stared at the garment in her hands– it was hideous. Once a full-body unitard, it was now a bodysuit with a three-tiered skirt. The back was tied with yellow corset lacing and a huge yellow bow, and to complete the creation, Catherine had added horrendous balloon sleeves. There was no way in hell that Usagi would ever wear it. Unfortunately, there wasn't enough time to find a new costume before the show– an idea struck her. With a bit of dismantling, she deemed the costume wearable and put it on. The sounds of ripping fabric were not pleasing to the designer though. Catherine turned to Sera, mouth agape.

"What happened?"

"I'm just so clumsy and some of the seams ripped and . . . Can you ever forgive me?"

Catherine looked at her masterpiece and felt like crying. The sleeves had been ripped off, and the thin green straps were all that held it on. The beautiful bow was gone and the amazing yellow ruffled skirt had been downsized. It only covered enough of Sera to keep her decent. Crushed, Catherine lowered her head. She had seen the tears in Sera's eyes; she knew the younger girl was truly sorry. There was nothing she could do about the costume now; the show was set to start within minutes.

"It's okay. I know you didn't mean to," she told Sera with a tiny smile, "I'll just have to fix it tonight."

Usagi groaned inwardly. If she finished the mission soon enough, she wouldn't have to wear the costume again, an added incentive. As a precaution though, she was going to hide it from the overzealous artiste. Suddenly, a fanfare began to sound.

"That's your cue," Catherine squealed.

She gave Sera a quick hug and pushed her into the arena. 'Sera' once again adopted her wide smile and peppy personality. The spotlight that had been trained on Bloom as her announced his new star, now followed her to the top of the trapeze platform. Usagi smirked to herself as she heard the whistles and catcalls from the men in the audience. Flipping her hair and blowing a few kisses in their direction, 'Sera' began her first swing.

Seven minutes later, she was back on the ground– applause still ringing in her ears. 'Sera' was glowing with pride and perspiration. Usagi, on the other hand, was bored. She could have done so much more, but the circus was partially staffed with Society employees and at least one "perfect." It would not serve her purpose to be found out– yet.

As the evening wore on, the crowds thinned and circus packed it in for the night. Usagi had disappeared right after the trapeze routine and reappeared only moments before her tightrope act. She was busy doing recon. She located Benedict, the shy lab tech, and managed to manipulate an offer for a drink later that night. Having both dates in one night would definitely cut down on the time she would have to spend at the circus. She'd already informed Director A that she was closing in on the mole; she wanted him to be proud of her, and she wanted to prove that he was right– women could be soldiers.

Usagi returned to her trailer, changed her clothes, and headed out to meet the strongman/trainer, Arnold Costa. He took her to the only restaurant within miles, which was really more of a bar than anything else. A few drinks later, Arnold was plastered and Usagi only wished that she could be too because he was truly insufferable. At first he droned on and on about his physical fitness regimen and offered to give her some tips– like she really needed them. Then, he moved on to . . . well, she wasn't sure what he was saying because she was no longer listening. That is, until he made his first slip. He had been regaling her with tales of winning . . . something when he started to talk about being recruited. Usagi was paying attention now. She encouraged him to talk and got him another drink. He talked about his recruitment, his big paycheck, and the satisfaction he got from ordering around kids. As infuriatingly dense as he was, Usagi decided that Arnold was not the mole she was looking for. He was too stupid to come up with such a complex plan for selling information and he was too pleased with his life to risk screwing it up. Dinner was over soon and Usagi drove them back to the circus. Arnold wanted her to "go back to my place," but she just left him sitting in the truck.

Taking a few minutes to change and freshen the horrible make-up she was wearing, Usagi headed toward Edward Benedict's trailer. He was now one of her two remaining suspects. She raised her hand to knock on the door, but paused when she heard angry shouting. Blending into the shadows so that she could eavesdrop uninterrupted, Usagi honed in on Benedict's voice. He was yelling at someone, on the other end of his phone, about money. He told the voice that if he didn't get his money within the week, he would "peddle his wares elsewhere." Usagi smirked. She'd found the identity of the mole in less than two days; it had taken the other "perfect" a year to narrow the suspects down to five.

After making a quick stop to the lion cages, Usagi returned to her trailer. Now that there was no need to have drinks with Benedict, she could plan his assassination. She finalized her plans, packed her things, and contacted Director A to give him the good news. His voice was practically bursting with pride as he congratulated her on her shrewd thinking and quick, decisive action. He informed her that G0-0372 was on his way back to the circus and that he knew that another "perfect" was already infiltrated in the circus.

"Make sure you stay 'Sera' and are not revealed to be G0-0630."

"Sir, yes Sir!"

She turned her communicator off and lay on her bed. She reviewed her new mission specs for hours until the sun rose. She'd decided that the unassuming popcorn vendor/traitor would be killed in an accident as ridiculous as his mistake to betray the Society. His popcorn machine was going to 'short circuit' and blow him into tiny pieces. She knew that the other Society members would see through the accident façade, and that actually worked out well; they would have an example of what happened to traitors.

Usagi headed toward the big top. She wanted a workout and decided that it would be too suspicious if any of the Society trainers saw her warm-up regimen; she'd have to settle for the tightrope. A loud yowl froze her steps. Her head shot up, and she blurred to the lion cages. A man was standing in front of the cages, throwing meat between the bars– or trying to; it mostly fell to the ground. Usagi was pissed.

"What are you doing?"

The man turned to her, startled, "I'm feedin' the beasts; what's it look like?"

"You're just throwing it at the bars. It's a wonder they haven't died of starvation!"

"Look, lady, I don't wanna lose my hand; these beasts would kill me! I got stuck doin' this because that good for nothin' knife-thrower disappeared again. You got a problem with the way I do this, you can do it yourself," he threw the bucket of meat to her with possibly more force than necessary and stalked off.

Usagi watched him go, and then realized that the bastard hadn't left her the key to the cages. It was fortunate, then, that she was an expert lock-pick. She picked up the bucket from the ground and murmured soft reassurances to her pride. She was going to have to leave them soon, no matter how much it pained her. These last few moments were precious.


	8. Chapter 8: The Perfect Struggle

A Man's World

Chapter 8: A "Perfect" Struggle

by terre nymphe

as aforementioned in the summary, this piece borrows both characters and storylines from Gundam Wing, Sailor Moon, and Dark Angel. I do not own, nor have any claim to, any of these shows and/or comics. I apologize for any perceived plagiarism and assure readers that it is not intentional.

"Trowa! Trowa! You're back!"

With a sense of foreboding, the subject of the exclamation turned to see a bubbly, brunette running toward him. She enveloped him in a tight hug.

"Catherine," he replied quietly.

"Trowa, you've been gone for a week, and that's all you have to say for yourself? Well, I certainly hope you have a better explanation for my father. He was so upset when you left."

"This isn't the first time I've left though."

"Ah, a multi-word answer," she laughed, grabbing his arm.

Together, they headed toward the big top. Once inside, she tossed him some water and motioned for him to sit down.

"Yes, you leave a lot, but you've always let someone know that you were leaving. And, you've always been back within two days."

"I'm sor . . ."

"No, don't worry about it. Daddy will get over it. He was only upset because he had to hire a new performer to take your place . . ."

"Hmmm."

" . . . very good performances . . . done wonders with the lions . . ."

That got Trowa's attention. His head jerked up, and he scowled at her. The smile on her face was infuriating; she was having fun needling him.

"I thought that might get your attention," she told him as stood and walked toward the tent flap. "Wait, where are you going?"

"To warn that guy away from my lions," he replied as he disappeared into the daylight.

"He's in for a big surprise," she giggled.

Trowa thundered off toward the cages. He didn't mind that his performance had been replaced, but he was indignant about the lions. They had never allowed anyone else near them; for a while, he'd been important– special. Now, he was back to being a nobody. He shook these thoughts away; he wasn't a nobody. He was perfection embodied. As he neared the cages, movement caught his attention. A slim, feminine figure was picking the lock on the lioness cage. She opened the gate and stepped inside. Trowa panicked; he knew what was about to happen to her.

'Freeze," he shouted as he rushed toward her.

The girl tensed; then, extended her hand to touch the nearest lion– the alpha female.

"I'm coming in to get you. Those cats will rip you to shreds if they feel threatened, so don't move!"

A sound erupted from the lioness, and Trowa panicked. Ripping the door open, he grabbed the girl's hand. She pulled her arm away violently. Shocked by her reaction, Trowa finally realized that the lioness had not been growling; she'd been purring. Trowa began to put two and two together.

"You're the new performer," he said almost accusingly.

She nodded her head in affirmation. Together, they finished feeding the lions, though Trowa was once again surprised that the male lion made no protest to the girl's intrusion on his turf. She exited the cage first, followed closely by the confused "perfect." He turned to lock the gate, but when he turned back, she was gone. The woman intrigued Trowa. Her short, red hair and emerald green eyes were too vibrant to be natural, though he didn't know why she would be wearing a disguise.

"Is she hiding something?" he wondered aloud.

He searched the compound for an hour before resigning himself to not finding her. He decided that if she didn't want to be found, he'd leave her alone– for now. Giving up his search, he headed back to the big top to brush up on his acts. He spotted her as soon as he lifted the tent flap; she was on the high wire. Her bright red hair stood out against the dark canopy. Trowa watched her, impressed; she was as good as he was. Her balance was amazing. He watched her as she pranced, flipped, cart wheeled, and twisted her way from one side of the high wire to the other. Suddenly, the woman stopped. She dove head first from the fifty-foot platform. Trowa's eyes widened; there was no net! Seconds before she hit the ground, the woman twisted into a back flip and landed safely on the ground– crouched much like the lions.

"Isn't she amazing?"

Trowa turned to face Catherine, "Yes, she's good."

Catherine giggled and called to the woman. Slowly, almost reluctantly, the woman approached the pair. The three stood in an uncomfortable silence until Catherine piped up.

"Well, introduce yourselves," she commanded, and used to following orders, they complied.

"Trowa."

"Sera."

Catherine was becoming impatient, "oh, come on! You both have so much in common; you can find something to talk about."

Neither spoke.

"Well, I have to go help Daddy. You two play nice."

Catherine took one last look at the pair and walked away. Without her bubbly conversation, the remaining two sized each other up. Trowa noticed the suspicion in her emerald orbs.

"I didn't come back to replace you. I'll share."

She didn't reply. Trowa, though not usually one for conversation, tried another angle.

"That dismount was very good, thought you were going to hit the floor. Where did you learn to do that kind of thing?"

Sera stared at him as if she was trying to decide something. Trowa wondered about her big secret; it couldn't be any stranger than his. She flashed him an empty smile and walked away.

"You wouldn't believe me anyway," she whispered, unaware that he could hear her.

Usagi left the man, hopefully confused. That was the elusive Trowa? He was probably only a year older than she; too young to be a Society trainer or lab tech. Maybe he wasn't even part of the Society. She already knew that he wasn't the mole; what proof did she have that he was anything other than an often-absent circus star? Still . . . there was something about him.

Why hadn't she heard him approaching the lion cages earlier? No matter how engrossed she may have been in the felines, she should have heard Trowa's approach as soon as he arrived on the compound. A realization hit her like an atomic bomb; he was the other "perfect!" That's explained his frequent disappearances. That explained how he was able to sneak up on her at the cages. That explained why he was only mildly impressed by her performance. She was finally in the presence of an equal, even though he couldn't know– not yet anyway.

Now, Usagi was going to have to be even more careful. She'd have to dial it back with her amazing acrobatics and amp up the giggly act. Trowa would be aware of G0-0630's presence at the circus, and she had to make sure that he never found out whom G0-0630 really was. She was going to have to disappear soon, and she knew that he would connect the mole's elimination and the exit of G0-0630 to the quick departure of Sera. The shit was about to hit the proverbial fan, but Usagi was ready. This was what she'd been trained for; this was the type of thing she had been created to do.

Practically glowing, she headed to Benedict's trailer. She just wanted to apologize for standing him up the night before– really, just an apology. Unfortunately, he wasn't there. Brows furrowed, she went on a search for him. She went, first, to his popcorn machine but another man was there– making the day's popcorn.

"Where's Eddie?"

"You mean Benedict?"

"Yeah, Eddie Benedict."

"He took a few days off. Should be back sometime next week. Why?"

"He was supposed to have something for me."

The new vendor leered at her, "Well, if you think you can handle it, I've got something I'd like to give you."

"I'll bet you do. Tell you what, I'll give that some serious thought and get back to you."

Despite the caustic tone, Usagi was serious; he was cute, and she was bored. The man, Alex, was a little taken aback. He hadn't expected her to react like that. Usually, hot girls like her laughed at him or slapped him. He hadn't really been serious about his proposal, but hell, if she was game . . . He'd watched her show the night before and knew how flexible she was.

Though only semi-seriously considering Alex's proposal, Usagi _was_ seriously considering putting her fist through something– living or not. Her target was gone, and she had no idea where to find him. He hadn't been called back to the Society; Director A would have told her about it. And it wasn't possible to go after Benedict now or she would risk exposing her identity. So, for now, she was stuck at the circus. Getting more worked up by the second, Usagi decided she needed to vent her frustration without killing anyone– once again, she couldn't risk the exposure. She turned back to Alex.

"You think Bloom would throw a hissy if you took a break?"

Usagi grabbed him by the collar and took him back to her trailer. They barely got the door closed before Alex's pants were around his ankles. She allowed him to pin her to the wall and claim her mouth with his. His hands went to the waistband of her pants and started pulling them down. Suddenly, the trailer door swung open; Trowa stood in the doorway looking at them.

Usagi huffed and batted Alex's hands away from her pants.

"Get dressed," Trowa told Alex gruffly.

"Look man, she came on to me. She wanted it. I can't help it if I'm irresistible!'

Usagi pushed him away and pulled up her pants, hoping Trowa had not seen her tattoo, "This . . . was never about _you_."

She grabbed his shirt from the floor, threw it at him, and practically heaved him outside. Alex was confused by her quick turn around and made one last play for some . . . play.

"I don't have a roommate. We could go back to my trailer and . . ."

Usagi slammed the door in his face and lay down on her bed. Trowa watched her for a while. Catherine had told him that Sera was staying in his trailer, and he'd expected to see pink curtains on the windows or _her_ clothes on the floor. He had not; however, expected to see her screwing the popcorn guy. She offered no explanation, and he didn't ask for one. Nor did he say anything when she rose abruptly and left the trailer. He hoped that she was going to the lion cages or the big top, anywhere but that man's trailer. Though he was slightly thrown off by the strange attachment he felt toward the girl with whom he'd spent no more than ten minutes, he couldn't deny that he felt something for her. He thought back to what he'd seen when he entered the trailer. The other man had been practically clawing at her; Trowa had even seen a bruise, or at least some discoloration, on her right hip– not that he'd been looking that closely.

Sera fascinated him; he couldn't help it. She was so similar to him; he could see through the façade she put on for everyone else. Like him, she was tough and talented. Some primal instinct was compelling him. He had to talk to her; he had to know her.

Meanwhile, Usagi was at the cages. Sitting in the larger cage, she was caught in an overwhelming spiral of insecurity. Could she trust herself to be near Trowa and not reveal her secret? Did she have any choice? One by one, the lionesses lay down beside her. She felt safe, and soon allowed herself to fall asleep; the first sound sleep she'd had in days.

Two hours later, Usagi woke, refreshed. She stretched her limbs gracefully and arched her back. The lionesses purred around her. This was as close to content as she had ever been, and she wanted it to last as long as it could. And it was because she was at peace that she was able to hear Trowa's silent advance.

"Catherine sent me to find you. Your show starts in twenty minutes."

And in her first attempt at kindness, Usagi said something she'd never said sincerely before, "thank you."

It was a special moment for Trowa as well. No one had ever thanked him– for anything, ever. Usagi left the cage, and, together, they walked to the big top. The walk was silent but relaxed. Though neither could explain it, they felt . . . comfortable around each other. It just felt right.


	9. Chapter 9: Thrill of the Kill

A Man's World

Chapter 9: Thrill of the Kill

by terre nymphe

as aforementioned in the summary, this piece borrows both characters and storylines from Gundam Wing, Sailor Moon, and Dark Angel. I do not own, nor have any claim to, any of these shows and/or comics. I apologize for any perceived plagiarism and assure readers that it is not intentional.

The week passed quickly for the two soldiers. Usagi could do nothing about Benedict until he returned, so she devoted her concentrations to maintaining her cover. It was relatively easy at first; she simply avoided the other 'perfect' altogether, but as the week went by, it became almost impossible. Not only did they share a trailer, a dressing room, and a near obsession for the lions, Catherine was determined for the two to be friends.

She noticed Sera doing her warm-up exercises one morning and recognized the ballet positions immediately. Well aware of the fact that Trowa was a well-trained danseur, Catherine made sure that he too was aware of the new girl's morning habits. He would never admit it out loud, but Trowa was eager to have another excuse to talk to Sera.

This fascination with the girl was disturbing to him. As a child, he had a very limited exposure to women; the Society was almost completely composed of men. Even as he hit puberty, he never had much use for the females. Catherine had been the only girl he could tolerate and only in small doses at that. Then, he met Sera. Now, his every thought was edged out with the mental image of the 'green-eyed' beauty rising gracefully from the midst of the lionesses. Soon after Catherine relayed the latest bit of information about Sera, Trowa rushed off, nonchalantly mind you, to find her. She stood next to the big oak tree just outside the circus grounds.

Hand resting lightly on a low branch, her feet moved from first position into second then third, fourth, and fifth, followed by a series of deep plies and perfect arabesques. Trowa watched as she began to dance the opening sequence of Swan Lake; his enhanced hearing allowed him to listen as she hummed along with perfect pitch and perfect rhythm. Trowa knew the ballet well and recounted the story as she danced.

The maiden Odette, cursed by the evil Rothbart to live half of every day as a swan, is seen by Prince Sigfreid. He promises to declare his undying devotion to her to break the spell. Rothbart discovers the plot and brings his daughter Odile, who is almost identical to Odette, to the Prince's ball.

At this point in the story, Sera paused. The next sequence was the pas de deux (duet) between the Prince and the evil Odile, but Sera had no prince to dance with. She had walked through the earlier pas de deux but seemed reluctant to repeat the action. Nevertheless, she began to dance again; her face was more relaxed and unguarded than he had ever seen it, the first semblance of genuine emotion he'd witnessed from her.

Unwittingly, he drew closer to her, and she was too engrossed in the story to realize it. He stood but a few feet from her as she went into a triple pirouette. On her final revolution, the ground shifted under her shoe. Just as she realized she was falling, Trowa caught her waist. Setting her down gently, he watched her face for any change, but there was none. Sera's face was as passive as he had ever seen it. Determined to get some reaction out of her, he grabbed her hand and began to dance, pulling her along with him. Gradually, Sera resumed her humming and began dance as well. As they finished, the pair noticed Catherine running toward them—a giant smile on her face.

"Hey you guys, hurry up! The show starts in twenty minutes."

Realizing his hand was still on the girl's waist, Trowa mumbled an apology and started for the big top. Usagi watched him as he walked away, wondering which of the doctors was responsible for creating him. It would be an odd mission indeed that required Trowa to be trained as a dancer. She had never had the need to know about her peers before and Director A had certainly not volunteered the information. In the event that he would have to be eliminated, she would at least like to have known his designation.

The show was over soon and the two acrobats returned to their shared trailer to change. Though Usagi had no modesty, she was sure that 'Sera' would, and she turned her back to Trowa. Out of courtesy to the girl, Trowa turned his back too. He dressed quickly and faced Sera assuming she had finished as well­– she hadn't. A slight blush crept to his cheeks until he saw some discoloration on her hip reflected by the window.

"Did he hurt you?" Trowa demanded of her.

"Excuse me?"

"That man that was here the other day. Did he hurt you?"

"No. Why?"

"That bruise on your hip!"

Pulling the last bit of clothes on, Usagi was unfazed by the outburst, but Sera was indignant.

"Alex didn't hurt me. I'm fine. I can take care of myself!"

Trowa was experiencing an anger he'd never felt before, "you're lying. I saw the bruise!"

Taking a moment to congratulate herself on her foresight of covering her identification numbers, Usagi slid her pants down enough to expose her tattoo.

"It's a tattoo. It was a way to rebel against my squeaky-clean image," she ducked her head with mock embarrassment. "I'm actually rather ashamed of it; sometimes, it gives people a wrong impression of me." She was baiting him.

Trowa's anger leeched from his heart while awkwardness colored his cheeks; the bruise turned out to be a small, black crescent moon. He surprised himself by taking off his shirt to reveal his own tattoo.

"I've one as well," he pointed to the circle on his chest. "It's supposed to represent completion." He took her hand and raised it to the circle.

Usagi traced the mark lightly with her fingertips, smirking inwardly when she felt him shiver slightly at her touch. She placed her hand at her side again and regarded the boy in surprise. For some reason, he felt safe enough to reveal himself to her. If the Founders ever found out that he revealed himself to anyone he thought to be outside the organization, he would be brutally punished. She was confused by the fact that he would risk himself for someone he didn't know, but she had to take advantage of the situation; he may be disloyal to the cause.

"What is that underneath the circle?"

Trowa slipped his shirt back on, discomfited at his reaction to her touch. He was debating what to tell her. He felt he could trust her. Yes, he could tell her the truth, and the two of them could run away– away from his Founder and away from The Society.

Usagi, in turn, sat down on her bed and unnoticeably slipped her hand under her pillow for the gun hidden there. She waited for him to say something, fully prepared to execute him for treason if he mentioned anything about The Society. She didn't want to kill a gundam pilot, but she would if his loyalty was the least bit questionable. The gun aimed for the kill, Usagi awaited his response.

Her finger moved from the trigger as he dismissed it as a boyish mistake, and she discreetly slipped the tiny gun in the back of her pants. Gundam Zero pilot 0372 was safe for now, but she have to alert Director A to the boy's exposed flaw. This apparent weakness for helping others at the expense of the mission might compromise the entire operation.

There was an overwhelming silence in the room, which Trowa attributed to his forward and intimate action. Eager to repeat the electrifying experience, he moved toward Sera, maintaining a smoldering stare. A sudden knock on the trailer door halted his advancement. Catherine peeked her head inside the door.

"Is everybody decent," she giggled.

Trowa reluctantly motioned the girl inside, and she plopped down on his bed.

"Sera, you asked me to let you know when Benedict got back. He's at the popcorn stand right now."

Usagi stood quickly, her adrenaline beginning to rush, and made for the door. Before exiting, she turned to the others to offer a quick explanation, "I stood him up for a date a few nights ago and haven't had a chance to apologize. I don't want the opportunity to slip away again. I'll just be a few minutes."

Before closing the door, Usagi made a quick inventory of her gear. This was her chance to assassinate Benedict; therefore, 'Sera' would have to go too. Assured that she'd left nothing valuable in the trailer, Usagi hurried to her target. The charges were already set. All that was left to do was confront the mole, detonate the bomb, and leave a message for the Society survivors. She ran past the lions without a second glance; they would be the only part of this life she would miss– well, maybe not the only part.

Careful to give herself an alibi, Usagi waved at a few of the circus staff as they walked out of sight. Spotting her target, she crept up behind the man and covered his eyes, "guess who?" The flirtatious tone was beginning to sicken her.

Benedict practically jumped out of his skin, until he realized his 'attacker' wasn't an assassain, but the flexible red-head who had been throwing herself at him. He took her hands from his eyes and pulled her around to face him.

"Sera, you don't know how glad I am to see you."

"I thought you might feel that way. I have something to show you. I showed Trowa too, but he didn't appreciate it like I know you will."

A smile edging his mouth, Benedict took a deep breath and looked into her eyes, "and what would that be?"

Usagi took one of his clammy hands and put it at her waistband.

"Take a peek."

He pulled at the pants until he caught sight of tattoo, and as he moved his hand away, a breathy whisper stopped him.

"Leave it there."

Edward "Eddie" Benedict was sweating rivers as the willing young woman in front of him put his finger to her mouth and began sucking it. His knees were ready to collapse when she moved his wetted finger to the small black moon low on her hip. She moved his finger around the soft skin, and he may have fainted but for noticing some strange substance coating his digit. Below the moon, there was now a barcode reading G0-0630.

Usagi watched as the ecstasy on Benedict's face turned to terror. She studied him as he looked around wildly for any other human being. She felt that it was finally time to put the squirming little man out of his misery– sort of.

"Don't bother trying to find help, Eddie. You know it won't do any good; you know what I am."

" . . .but how? You're a girl!'

"I'm aware of that, but what we really need to talk about are your crimes against the Society. Selling "family secrets" is a serious offense. I've been sent to make an example of you. Now, I'm going to punch you in the throat to block your air supply. You'll be out cold and you won't feel a thing. Consider this Sera's gift to you. "

In a flash, Usagi lashed his wrist to the cart and knocked him unconscious. Quickly severing his other hand and burning the edge, she marked it with six black dots, all in a circle. She tossed by the lion's cage for Trowa to find, pressed the detonator in her hand, and blurred to her motorcycle. Revving the engine, she screeched out of the circus ground unseen and unnoticed. Maybe if she went fast enough, she could outrun the guilt.

Trowa and Catherine heard the explosion and ran out of the trailer toward the sound. They stopped short in front of what used to be the popcorn stand. The same thing ran through both of their minds, Sera!

"She was probably finished talking to him. I'll go check the tent. Trowa, go see if she's by the lions! "

Catherine was on the verge of hysterics. Trowa simply stared at the scene, analyzing it. Mistaking this for shock, Catherine pushed him in the path of the lions. Half-running and half-blurring, Trowa arrived at the cages in record time. What he saw, confirmed his suspicions. Benedict's hand lie on the ground, cut cleanly but burned as to deceive the inexperienced. On his hand were six dots in a circle or a zero. In a flash, his mind was cleared of all distraction. Benedict had been the mole! Trowa had failed his mission of 8 months while G0-0630 had not only found, but also eliminated, Benedict in five days.

Trowa walked back to the scene, compiling a statement of mission failure he would have to present to the Founders. He found Catherine on the ground, sobbing. He hadn't realized that she was so close to the traitor, and while he felt no sympathy for the man's death, he decided that a physical display of comfort would be appropriate in the situation. He put his arm around her and pulled her into an awkward hug. Between her heaving sobs, he heard her say something that stopped his blood cold.

"I'm so sorry Trowa. I know that you liked her a lot. Poor Sera, this is so unfair."

He pushed her away, and she saw the shock on his face.

"Oh god. Trowa, I thought you knew. A few of the workers saw her talking to Benedict right before the explosion. I'm so sorry Trowa, but Sera is . . . dead."

Catherine collapsed to the ground, wailing. Trowa simply stared at the site. Practical and objective analysis of the situation ran through his mind. G0-0630 did what he had been trained to do. The blast looked like an accident, the fire was hot enough to decimate all human remains, and the message was clear to all Society employees that betrayal had a swift and deadly reward. This new pilot would have been a great asset. _Would have_. Trowa looked to the grieving girl again. 06, the bastard responsible for this, would die before he got the chance to prove himself again. Sera was dead and Trowa's humanity was dead too. The Founders want another Heero? Well, now they've got one.


	10. Chapter 10: The Flip Side of Betrayal

A Man's World

Chapter 10: THE FLIP SIDE OF BETRAYAL

by terre nymphe

as aforementioned in the summary, this piece borrows both characters and storylines from Gundam Wing, Sailor Moon, and Dark Angel. I do not own, or have any claim to, any of these shows and/or comics. I apologize for any perceived plagiarism and assure readers that it is not intentional.

Sadness.

Confusion.

Regret.

A normal psyche might experience these emotions after orchestrating such a massive betrayal, but Usagi's psyche was _far_ from normal. She'd had neither the chance nor the inclination to experience the full range of emotions, so there were many that she didn't understand.

During her field training, Usagi had made quite an effort to study the emotions of an average teenage girl, but the recent events convinced her that she needed more work. 'Sera' was supposed to be ditsy, enthusiastic, and ultimately, forgettable, but Trowa saw right through the act. If he was as well trained as he was supposed to be, it wouldn't be long before he figured out her true identity.

Suddenly, another problem occurred to her. Even if he didn't make that connection, he would remember her face. Her identity would not be safe. She was left with only one feasible option . . .

Trowa was tired. The drive back to The Society was extraordinarily long, but it had given him hours to plan 06's murder. There were thousands of possibilities, each more painful than the next.

He pulled up to the enormous black gate and passed his hand over a sensor that scanned his identification chip. The gate swung out to let him through. Once inside, a guard signaled for him to stop.

"G0-0372, I'll take care of the car. You have orders to report directly to debrief."

Trowa nodded, grabbed his bag from the floor, and set off for the conference building. The '8', '9' and '10' series infantry soldiers were running the obstacle courses, and all of the '12' series were in the garage taking apart and reassembling the guts of a TS1-16 jet engine. Trowa watched them as he walked past, wishing his life were still as simple. At the door of the conference building, he swiped his hand under another scanner and watched for the access light to turn green. Soon, he was sitting outside of the debriefing room. The other four pilots, wandering in from their own duties, joined him. He told them about his mission, Benedict, and 06's perfectly executed 'accident.' Then, he told them about Sera. He told them about her acrobatics, her dancing, her odd relationship with the lions, and her unfortunate death. Both Wufei and Duo dismissed the situation as an acceptable casualty. Quatre displayed his distaste for the new pilot's methods. Only Heero saw the underlying anguish in 03's countenance. As the three apathetic pilots were engaged in some trivial conversation about motorcycle parts, Heero questioned Trowa further.

"You formed an attachment."

"Yes."

"We were trained to remain objective."

"I know. It was unavoidable; she was everywhere."

Trowa's face dropped its composure, "Heero, she was just like me but . . . better. She was strong and disciplined and pure. She didn't deserve to die; _she_ never killed anyone. _She_ never tortured anyone or seduced anyone for information . . . G0-0630 murdered her and I want him dead!"

Heero watched the boy's face contort with fury and waited for him to calm down before offering his advice, "forget about her. Forget about your vendetta. This conversation alone could be considered treason. Are you prepared let a girl you hardly knew corrupt your purpose?"

Trowa was about to answer when he was called into the debriefing room.

Unlike Trowa's entry, Usagi's return to the base was not through the front gate. She had another way in courtesy of a blind spot between the two security cameras guarding the Western fence. She waited for the patrol soldiers to pass and slipped through the section of the fence she'd disabled when she was six.

Usagi knew better than to completely trust _anyone_. Not even her Founder was aware of _this_ particular little secret. It was better that he stay confused and in awe of her skill. She would be naïve to think that even Director A wouldn't sell her down the river in order to advance his mighty cause or even to protect his own ass. She'd even set up an account in a bank in Brasilia under an alias just in case she ever needed to disappear.

In the interests of further self-protection, Usagi told Director A _everything_ regarding her first solo mission. She told him about the ridiculous costumes, her odd connection to the lions, Benedict's ingenious execution, and her own failure at maintaining her cover. She also detailed for him Trowa's near betrayal.

"This is a grave situation indeed, Usagi. What would you suggest we do about it?"

"Sir, I feel that the severity of the situation requires a detention in the psychological operations building."

"And if I were to say that your suggestion was too severe?"

"Sir, I would be forced to disagree. 03 almost abandoned his purpose and the Society. Such action cannot go unpunished. Furthermore, he has seen my face. His attachment to 'Sera' will compromise any missions that occur before my true identity is revealed. Director A, he must forget 'Sera'!"

"Very well, I will inform his Founder. I have no doubt that Doktor S will agree with your assessment and suggestion. G0-0372 will be in evaluation before the day is through."

Usagi sighed audibly, her relief evident, and her eyes gleamed with pride. She waited for the man to dismiss her, but she was mistaken in the assumption that the meeting was over.

"Usagi, while I appreciate your honesty concerning your own shortcomings, I've decided that you, too, are in need of evaluation. You are showing signs of emotions, regret most predominately. I've tried to train them out of you, but it seems that you've failed to keep them at bay. Perhaps, Dr. Reiz can help to expunge these imperfections."

Trowa emerged from the debriefing room, replaying the past few minutes in his head. Doktor S and Director A had been deep conversation when he'd entered the room, and Trowa stood at attention until Director A excused himself from the room.

"Trowa, I'm anxious to hear about the mission."

"Sir, the mission was a success. Edward Benedict is dead and the other employees have been sufficiently warned. G0-0630 blew up Benedict's popcorn cart to cover his death."

"So, 06 finished your mission and in a fraction of the time. I wonder; did you meet this reclusive pilot? If so, I would very much like to know about him."

"Sir, I did not see him."

"Hmm. Well, if that is all you have to report, you are dismissed."

Trowa turned to leave, but a single word stopped him in his tracks.

"Sera."

Trowa's chest tightened.

"You failed to mention your attachment to the girl, as well as, the distraction she became. 03, this could be considered betrayal, but you are too valuable to execute– for now. Director A informs me that 06 recommended psy-ops as your punishment, and I must agree. Your failures could have put the entire Society in jeopardy! You will leave this room and report directly to Dr. Reiz for evaluation."

"Sir, yes sir," Trowa's face was void but his thoughts were murderous. Not only did 06 kill Sera, he had Trowa sent to psy-ops for it. That bastard was going to pay.

The other pilots watched Trowa as he exited the briefing room, and even Heero was surprised at the fiery glare coming from the usually impassive pilot. Hate seeping from his very pores; Trowa paused for a terse explanation.

"Doktor S has seen fit to send me to psy-ops for my failure."

The boys visibly stiffened, unwelcome memories coursing through their brains. Quatre was the first to speak, "But I thought the mission was a success. Benedict is dead, isn't he?"

"Yes, but 06 _suggested_ to his founder that I be put into psy-ops because of Sera; because of my weaknesses."

"That bastard! When we finally meet him, that kid is dead," Duo was practically spitting acid.

"He's right to suggest this punishment, I would have done the same," a new voice weighed in.

Duo turned to the Chinese pilot, "Wufei! How can you say that? You know what it's like in that place."

"No, Duo, he's right. I almost betrayed my purpose. That cannot go unpunished."

"That's it? You're gonna get your mind dissected and you think you deserved it?"

"The punishment is appropriate, but make no mistake, Duo, 06 will pay. He will die at _my hand_ for the murder an innocent."

With that Trowa left his companions and headed for Dr. Riez's torture chamber. When he reached the medical building, two guards escorted him to a room. As the heavy, metal door closed behind them, Trowa locked away the memories of Sera in the deepest recesses of his psyche. Try as they might, no one would make him forget about her.

A few rooms away, two armed guards were strapping Usagi to her very own surgical table. The titanium restraints bit into her wrists and ankles, and the vice-like straps around her head offered absolutely no room for movement. Only after she was completely secured, did Dr. Riez dare to enter the room. He knew both the hate she held for him and the amount of strength housed in her petite body; he would take no unnecessary chances around her.

He taped her eyes open and positioned the ocular laser directly over her retina, then he sat at his computer to activate the lights. Director A had told Riez to concentrate on emotion suppression, so he programmed the lasers with his newest slide show, complete with physical reminders of the visual lessons.

Suddenly, the painful, intense laser bombarded Usagi's right eye with photos of death and destruction. Every once in a while, a photo of a happy family or a smile would pop up, and each time it was accompanied by an electric jolt. The pain would course up and down her slight frame.

From her left eye, Usagi could see Dr. Reiz standing over her, smiling; the hate she already held for him from their previous encounters was multiplied ten times over. The smiling and laughing, and the shocks and the pain, his face and his voice, and the hate and the fear, and the hate of the fear; it consumed her. Relief came only from the blank slides. There was no pain, only respite in the nothingness; blankness was the objective. Emotion is pain. Peace in silence. Emptiness is the only way.

Relaxing in his plush office, Dr. Reiz watched the monitors as the two soldiers reacted to his new programming. Their bodies jerked with the electrical currents, and he couldn't help but smile at the genius of his latest idea; this propaganda would be buried so deep in their brains that nothing would be able to bring the emotions back. He watched, with particular pleasure, the girl's violent convulsions. She'd inflicted many an injury on him in her short life– moments like this were sweet revenge.

Reiz looked down at his right hand; the bones were mangled and misshapen. A few years ago, during one of 06's behavior modification sessions, she'd broken loose of her metal cuff and crushed his hand, rendering it permanently useless. Now, he used every opportunity with the girl to remind her who was really in control, who really had the power. Dr. Reiz massaged the palm of his hand; the dull, constant ache meant that rain was coming.

Two days later, both soldiers were released from their punishment. Usagi was removed first and escorted back to her quarters through a set of secret hallways. Trowa was then allowed to walk back to the barrack he shared with the other four pilots. When the other boys returned from evening drills, they found Trowa sitting on his bed, staring at the wall. Duo was the first to approach.

"So, how was it?"

Trowa continued staring at the wall. Duo exchanged looks with the other boys then tried again.

"Did Reiz finally fry your brain? Trowa, man, you have to answer me."

At the mention of Dr. Riez, Trowa's gaze fell to the floor.

"I can't remember."

Duo's face grimaced in understanding; they'd all been through psy-ops, and it was no vacation.

"Yeah, I don't like to remember that stuff either."

"No," Trowa looked up at the boy, "I can't remember _her_."


End file.
